Page 27 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

Five

Liam

The door to the cottage swung open with a resentful creak, protesting my sudden arrival. I stepped over the threshold, and the sight pummeled me like a rogue wave. It was chaos unleashed in a room that once knew order.

"Damnit," I muttered, the word slicing through the stillness.

My boots crunched on debris, the remnants of Raina's short time here shattered across the floor. The quiet home had been transformed into a battleground of broken pieces and toppled furniture.

Growing up in Ephandor, then becoming the king's head guard, scenes of struggle were familiar, but this was personal. This was Raina's world, turned upside down.

I moved through the destruction, scanning for clues, for any sense of her essence left behind. She could be anywhere, suffering the worst of what dishonorable savages could do.

Not now. Now was for action, for finding her.

Drops of blood were by the door, a bigger coagulated puddle further in. Some of it was Lorne's. I hoped all of it was and that Raina had been taken unharmed.

With the amount of damage, however, it was doubtful. She was a fighter and wouldn't have gone quietly.

I continued exploring, noticing the broken window in the bedroom. The unmade bed. Her scent was everywhere, but so were others'.

Among the chaos, my gaze snagged on something painfully familiar. A wooden box, small, unassuming, but loaded with the weight of a thousand regrets, lay there amid the splinters and broken porcelain.

Hesitation gripped my chest, squeezing until reason gave way to the need to touch it, to feel the smooth grain under my fingertips. Why had she kept it?

Stupid box, I grumbled to myself, the dark humor a feeble attempt to shield myself from the onslaught of emotions.

I bent down, muscles taut, and picked it up. My hands, so accustomed to the cold embrace of weapons, warmed against the wood. It was heavier than I remembered.

"Should've thrown you into the fire when I had the chance," I scolded the lifeless object, picturing Raina's small frame, the shy tilt of her chin when she'd handed it to me.

She'd given me a lock of her hair to keep inside the box. Sixteen and blushing, she'd said it was silly but she had nothing else to give me.

Years later, when I'd heard rumors of her parents' plan to buy their way out of the contract with my father, I'd gone to Snowfall. Storming in, ignoring the guards, I'd hunted her down inside her quarters.

When I'd confronted her with what I'd heard, she'd remained maddeningly silent. Not one damn word escaped her lips. Not a single emotion showed on her face.

Seething, my emotions had boiled over like never before and I hurled the box at her. I thought I heard a sob echo in my ears as I stormed out, but that couldn't have been right.

Anger surged, a welcome blaze to chase away the chill of regret. I'd been cruel, lashing out with words sharpened by emotional wounds.

Banishing the ugly memory, I lifted the lid, expecting the same silken lock, tied with a thin pink ribbon, to be nestled inside. And it was, but something had been added.

The sickly sweet scent was an instant assault on the senses. I recoiled as if struck. My heart stuttered, a painful lurch that threatened to shatter the walls I'd built around it.

Fixedly, I stared down at dried leaves, processing. Green sallow and what looked like wormwood, fae symbols representing false love and bitter sorrow.

The leaves mocked me, their presence in the box a clearer message than any words could convey. I clenched my jaw, shoving the box into the depths of my jacket.

Quickly, I did one more sweep, then another outside. No answers were here, but I knew where to get some.

I invoked the portal spell. My magic surged, tugging at the fabric of space before ripping it wide open. A darkness colder than the deepest winter night beckoned, taking me away from Greenhollow and into the heart of Tetria.

I stepped through, emerging into the sour odor of spilled ale and unwashed bodies. My sight adjusted quickly, taking in the dinginess, the desperation clinging to the walls like cobwebs.

The wood furnishings were old but sturdy, occupied by figures clad in dark clothing. Whispers skittered over the grimy floor like vermin, and wary glances cut through the haze of pipe smoke.

It felt like a place where danger lurked around every corner. I could almost sense the secrets and sins that hung in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog.

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